where seeds of thought have room to grow...

Just thinking...

June 21, 2012

I sat on the porch swing this evening listening to David Gray and watching the cardinal couple dine at the feeder. Just as the sun slipped below the trees, I felt myself slipping, too, into worry about the future.

But right away I hit the brakes and scrambled back up to reality. It hit me that I was sitting in what used to be a future I worried about years ago. Over and over again, most likely.

And I was fine. Broke and unsure of what was ahead, but overall fine. At least in that moment, I sat on a porch swing of a dream-come-true home, healthy, knowing my kids are relatively okay and that I have friends and family and really, really good credit.

So I stopped worrying about what was around the next curve and just enjoyed those moments.

There's been so much going on, so little going on. Words are getting tangled up in my mind, but I'll try to give you an update...

Max barely ate last night. Didn't eat anything this morning. Stayed in his doghouse all day, refusing to go down to the pond with me and Belle for a swim this evening.

My heart was breaking. He's old, and I know it, but I hate having to face it.

I fixed his dinner and called him as usual, although I really didn't expect him to respond. But he did. And he actually ate almost all of his food. Sure, I held the bowl for him while he laid in his dog bed, but we do what we have to do, don't we?

And then he barked ferociously and ran off into the woods chasing something with Belle.

I was happy again.

It rained yesterday.

I didn't go out and dance in it, but I was tempted. I'm pretty sure my crape myrtles were dancing.

The sun came back out today, and I admit I was happy to see blue sky and fluffy white clouds. But I do hope the rain comes back soon.

Do you remember Haley, the neighbor dog with a heart of gold who was hit by a truck or something but survived because she's a rock solid pit bull?

Well, she's also a little creepy, too, like Cujo, in that you'll look up and she'll suddenly be sitting there, silently staring at you.

That's what happened this evening. But I was happy to see her because she doesn't actually live next door anymore. The son, her owner, flew the nest to a house of his own.

I've missed Haley. And I think she missed me, too. After I snapped this photo, she came over to see me, tongue hanging out.

Then she waded into our creek and ate some frogs.

Three pennies and a nickel sit on a shelf in my closet. Alone they wouldn't buy much, but they're worth more than their monetary value to me. Each one appeared on the ground in front of me a few weeks ago, whispering "In God We Trust" at a time when my heart was dragging behind me. Five coins in one week reminding me to trust God.

June 19, 2012

Foremen who stole from the company. Welders who smoked pot in the weld-out yard. A warehouse worker who bragged about being high on Vicodin. A co-worker nicknamed "Moo Cow", who carried a gun in her purse before it was legal and had a tattoo when they were still edgy.

Port-a-potties so nasty I would call in sick if I thought I couldn't hold it for my 10 hour shift.

I only worked construction two months, but the impact was indelible, as you can see. I learned what I didn't want to do the rest of my life and what kind of person I didn't want to be and who I didn't want to associate with, and had clear reasons why.

But without those two months, my scholarship in chemical engineering and handful of semesters in college alone wouldn't have landed me my next job at DuPont as part of the start-up team of plant technicians.

For me, that job was supposed to be temporary - I always planned to go back and get my degree - but somehow thirteen years drifted by.

And then I quit. I stayed home with my kids, intended to publish essays and articles and books, go back to school and get my degree. Instead I wrote a little here and there, mostly for local papers detailing the Cub Scout Pack's latest accomplishments. I volunteered at the schools and for our church and our community and the kids' organizations. I did go back to school off and on, taking only one class a semester so it didn't interfere with being a mom or building our house or my volunteer work.

And I discovered that intoxicating and addicting world of part-time jobs, full of flexibility and diversity ... a trade-off that was worth the low hourly wages to me.

But twenty years, exploding property taxes, and three kids through college later, it's time for me to find an actual steady-paycheck, paid-time-off kind of job. A real career.

So I've spent hours and hours over the past couple of weeks thinking about where I'd love to work, filling out applications, trying to manipulate my eclectic work experience to fit the position at hand, coming up with creative ways to say "Although I've never..." and "Despite not having a degree..." and convincing arguments on why I'm the best one for that particular job.

And I can't help but believe something will pop up, something that I've been preparing for my entire life without being aware of it. Is that naive, to think so?

I hope not. But I don't really care.

(Would you believe I made more money when I was twenty than these 'dream' jobs I'm applying for offer? And some of them even 'prefer' a four-year degree. Ah, the things we take for granted when we're young...)

June 13, 2012

I found myself with a few hours to kill one morning this week with nary a Starbucks in sight. So I stepped into the next best thing - a Whataburger. I knew they'd have coffee, a restroom, air-conditioning, and space for reading and writing the time away. Everything I needed.

"You doing alright, ma'am?" It was the counter lady. "Can I get you a refill on your coffee?"

She carried a tray of ketchup, creamer, and napkins, making the round of tables, even this one with the woman nursing a cup of coffee.

"No, not right now, but thank you," I told her.

"You need something, you let me know."

That happened every few minutes. I tell you what, she and the other ladies working there put every other waiter to shame, myself included, with their smiles and eagerness to be of service.

"You write pretty," another employee paused her sweeping to tell me.

The place was never crowded. Just some workers in khaki shirts and gimme hats, a young couple, a small family. I eavesdropped on a job interview in the booth behind me, and a conversation between the counter lady and a gray-haired gentleman one booth up. He nursed a cup of coffee, just like me.

Lunchtime approached and the smell of burgers and fries drifted to my booth. I had refilled my coffee and sat scribbling on a yellow pad when I saw them walk in, the young dad and his daughter. He was slim, wearing khaki slacks and black-rimmed glasses. The girl was obviously a tomboy; she wore ragged cut-off jeans, a t-shirt, and dirty tennis shoes. Her short brown hair was a mess, tousled by the wind.

They ordered without even a glance at the menu - Whataburgers, French fries, and chocolate shakes. Once at the table, the girl scraped all the veggies off of the patty with a fry before taking a big bite of the burger. Right away she stuffed a few French fries in her mouth and took a slurp of her shake.

Then she smiled at her daddy, and I smiled at the memory, and tears filled my eyes at the fleetness of time.

I stepped to the counter and ordered a burger and fries. I didn't scrape the veggies off this time, if you're wondering, and I ordered tea, not a shake, but the burger tasted just as good as it did on all those long ago Whataburger visits, when I was eight and ten and twelve, sitting across from my daddy.

I'm grateful for things that don't change. And for sweet memories that only need the scent of a burger to appear.

If after reading this, you're asking "What the heck is Whataburger?" then click HERE for more information and the history of this chain. On the home page of the website you'll see what the one in my memory looked like.

For you Austin-ites, or travelers passing through Austin, the one I spent so much time in this week is on the corner of Airport and MLK. Such great service, you feel like you've eaten in a 5-star restaurant!

June 07, 2012

".....I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance. Don’t bother with work you don’t believe in any more than you would a spouse you’re not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison. Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction. Be worthy of your advantages. And read… read all the time… read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect. Read as a nourishing staple of life. Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it. Dream big. Work hard. Think for yourself. Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might. And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you’ll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.

The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you’re a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer. You’ll note the founding fathers took pains to secure your inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness–quite an active verb, “pursuit”–which leaves, I should think, little time for lying around watching parrots rollerskate on Youtube. The first President Roosevelt, the old rough rider, advocated the strenuous life. Mr. Thoreau wanted to drive life into a corner, to live deep and suck out all the marrow. The poet Mary Oliver tells us to row, row into the swirl and roil. Locally, someone… I forget who… from time to time encourages young scholars to carpe the heck out of the diem. The point is the same: get busy, have at it. Don’t wait for inspiration or passion to find you. Get up, get out, explore, find it yourself, and grab hold with both hands. (Now, before you dash off and get your YOLO tattoo, let me point out the illogic of that trendy little expression–because you can and should live not merely once, but every day of your life. Rather than You Only Live Once, it should be You Live Only Once… but because YLOO doesn’t have the same ring, we shrug and decide it doesn’t matter.)

None of this day-seizing, though, this YLOOing, should be interpreted as license for self-indulgence. Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct. It’s what happens when you’re thinking about more important things. Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view. Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you. Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly. Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion–and those who will follow them. And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself. The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you’re not special.

Because everyone is."

I didn't write this.

I wish I had. It was written by English teacher David McCullough, Jr.of Wellesley High School in Wellesley, Massachusetts and given to the graduating Class of 2012 as a commencement speech.

I wish someone had given this to my kids at their graduation. Heck, I wish someone had given it to my class at our graduation.

You can find the speech in its entirety HERE in the Swellesley Report (yes, really) and I urge you to go read it. And then I urge you to print it out and hang it on your wall and read it over and over and over.

Because his words don't just apply to graduating seniors but to everyone. Each morning we wake up to a new day full of moments waiting to matter and make our own... full of slippery opportunities, experiences, and chances... full of places to explore.

Thank you, Suldog, for posting the link on your blog and making me aware of it!

"Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view. Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you."

May 26, 2012

A day with our kids and other families, swimming in a cold river, eating fresh pineapple, grilling burgers... a night spent laughing and dancing to Johnny Dee and the Rocket '88s... and then a phone call early on that Tuesday morning afterwards that made me realize how much I had been taking for granted and how quickly life can change directions.

That Tuesday was fourteen years ago today. Tom left for work, expecting it to be like any other day, but it wasn't. He didn't expect the other car to come into his lane, didn't expect to spend a week in the hospital or the summer trying to heal and recover instead of building our home. He didn't expect to live with pain for the next fourteen years.

But that's what happened, whether he expected it or not. And the thing is, we got through it. We built our home... not that summer, but there were other summers, and I'm grateful for that. We've spent more days swimming in cold water with family and friends, and evenings laughing and dancing. I don't think a day goes by when Tom isn't in some degree of pain, but somehow he moves on and doesn't let it stop him from doing what he needs, or wants, to do.

It wasn't the last unexpected detour in our road we've encountered, and I'm sure there are more waiting for us. I can't say I'm grateful it happened. I'd love to tell you something positive that came from it, but honestly, I haven't been able to see that ray of light yet. Perhaps it's shining where I can't see it. I can only hope so.

But I'm still grateful, period, that whatever roadblock is in front of us now, we're approaching it together.

Life is just too short for grudges and regrets that burn holes in your heart, for dwelling on the past or the future so long that you miss your today.

It's too short not to pursue your passion even if you only have a few seconds free each day to do it.

Too short to sit back and wait for things to happen, or for someone else to do it, or to make excuses.

Too short not to love with your whole heart, leaving no room for pride or selfishness, always trying to understand, listen, forgive, and ask forgiveness.

Too short not to take care of yourself and those you love.

Life is just too short, period, and too wonderful to take for granted.

(I've spared you the most graphic images of Tom. His face was split open. You're welcome.)

And now for a few sweet! moments of my week...

Sunday: chunks of time for writing; sitting in a dark theater, laughing at Dark Shadows with 2/3 of your kids, flashing back to watching the series with your dad; theater popcorn, courtesy of your son; giving my time for a friend

Monday: being asked to critique a high schooler's short story; friends pulling together to support another friend; a framed photo of you and your daughter from more than a decade ago sitting on your desk while you work, a belated Mother's Day gift from your baby girl

Tuesday: a songbird greeting you first thing in the morning; a day with your daughter, running errands, grocery shopping, meeting her new roommates; a funny movie with friends; popcorn for dinner twice in one week

Wednesday: Texas farmland and wide open spaces; supporting a dear friend as she says goodbye to her mother; catching up with long-time friends; your husband taking care of a mama mouse and her babies that he found in the garage, rather than put them outside where they'd surely be eaten by a snake

(but now what do we do with them???)

Thursday: working out for the first time in a week; hours free to work on your book; two walks with your dogs in one day; friends who send you links to freelance jobs; not having to drive anywhere all day!

Friday: turtles and yellow-crowned night heron sightings, even if you forgot to bring your zoom lens on your morning walk (do you spot it up there in the drying-up pong?); your puppy pouncing through the tall grass after lizards; scratching things off your to-do list; a call from your sister; sigh-evoking engagement photos of your son and his love; your baby girl home for the weekend

Saturday: having your husband by your side, through good days and bad days

Share your sweet moments with me! I think sharing makes them sweeter.

I hope your coming week is full of sweet, magical moments and that you remember not to take a single one for granted!

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

May 22, 2012

The moment your baby is born, your heart grows so much with love that you think it will explode out of your chest. A second later, you have a vision of this tiny baby all grown up, leaving you to find its own way in this big world, and you feel the searing pain of anticipated loss.

There are times you have to tuck that knowledge away in a cupboard of your heart so you can quit worrying... so you can relax and enjoy those precious, fleeting baby moments.

At other times you need to pull that reminder out and set it in a prominent place, either as consolation when those precious moments turn into exhausting, overwhelming, frustrating, and seemingly endless days of their childhood or a reminder when you take those days and their childhood for granted.

If you're lucky, the going moves gradually, back and forth, like waves on the seashore during lowtide, returning but staying away longer and longer each time.

We're now in low tide with TG. Last week I moved her home... today I moved her back out again, into a first apartment with two other girls. It was a planned move and it's a cute place, with a spiral staircase in what seems to be a secure complex. I'm excited for her. I'm happy for her.

But this will be my first summer without her here at home (will I ever have another?) and dang it, I'm going to miss my baby, just like I knew I would one day.

We've had bad luck with our kids - they've all grown up.

~Christopher Morley

But I have to admit... spending whatever time I'm given with the woman she's become is a pretty good trade-off.

Wishing her the best of luck in this summer semester, and keeping her close in my heart and lifted high in prayer...

May 03, 2012

That doesn't mean I don't worry. Just that I'm beginning to realize worry doesn't help anything.

Prayer does, so the older I get, the more I pray.... that God will show me what I can do to help the situation, and if there's nothing I can do, to help me step back and let him take care of things.

...And that no matter what, I never lose hope.

When I do worry, it's about my kids... our finances... Tom's health... um... I think that's it. Next to those, nothing else seems to matter that much.

Oh, I pray about much more than that... issues that my friends and family are dealing with... social problems in the world... but I'm talking about that knotted up, gray-cloud-of-despair, helpless type of worry.

I recently came across this list that author F. Scott Fitzgerald gave to his 11-year-old daughter, Scottie, in 1933.

Things to worry about:

Worry about courageWorry about cleanlinessWorry about efficiencyWorry about horsemanship

Things not to worry about:

Don’t worry about popular opinionDon’t worry about dollsDon’t worry about the pastDon’t worry about the futureDon’t worry about growing upDon’t worry about anybody getting ahead of youDon’t worry about triumphDon’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own faultDon’t worry about mosquitoesDon’t worry about fliesDon’t worry about insects in generalDon’t worry about parentsDon’t worry about boysDon’t worry about disappointmentsDon’t worry about pleasuresDon’t worry about satisfactions

Things to think about:

What am I really aiming at? How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:

(a) Scholarship(b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them? (c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?

With dearest love,

Daddy

I don't agree with him on all of the items (horsemanship?), but I do on quite a few (especially the "nots") and like that he divided it between things we have control over and things we don't.

I wish I'd had the forethought to give my kids a list like this when they were younger.

They probably wouldn't have listened to me, though.

I wonder if F. Scott's daughter listened to him? Probably not. We all seem to have to learn the hard way, right?

April 26, 2012

Tomorrow will mark four days in a row I didn't have to report to one job or another. That's a record. When I say "job", I'm not talking about working on my book or photography, but at one of those hourly paying gigs that help feed our bank account.

When I envisioned these four wide open days, I saw myself up early, typing away at my book, filling dozens of pages even before heading out for my morning walk with the puppies. I would then edit some photos, write a blog post or two before lunch, followed by making a major dent on my to-do notebook (it's expanded way beyond a list.) I would still have time to work out, and take the pups and my camera on an afternoon walk to the pond.

Well, of course, in real life it didn't work out that way. I had so many odds and ends to take care of that it felt like my days just kind of piddled away.

I did manage to work on my book a couple of times, edit some photos, and publish a blog post, but there are some major to-do's I still haven't tackled.

There's always tomorrow...

I say that too often these days.

The thing is... and I hate to put words to the phantom thoughts drifting through my brain.. but I'm beginning to think it's impossible to be a writer, photographer, blogger, personal historian, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, waiter, substitute teacher, and.... um, I think that's it.... all at the same time.

But that doesn't mean I'm giving up.

On one of my recent walks, I noticed new grapevine twisting around an old limb. Clinging, climbing, intent on moving ever up and up. I was first struck by the bright red color, but its tenacity is what mesmerizes and inspires me now. Tom cleared out as much grapevine as he could this winter - it tends to choke the trees - but grapevine is one stubborn, headstrong plant.

I want to be like that.

Last Wednesday night I attended a photography workshop by Clay Blackmore, a professional portrait photographer about my age who started with film thirty years ago. He had to make the switch to digital - and to edgier, artsy photos - to stay on top of his business.

The guy next to me and I started talking. He also was about my age and had been a film photographer who only recently picked up a digital camera, trying to get back into photography and make some money from it. I can't remember now what he asked me, but in answering him, I mentioned that I was writing a book as well as doing some portrait and art photography.

That's when the woman sitting in front of us, also about our age, turned around. She asked me about my book and how I found my critique group. Seems she started writing a romance novel twenty years ago herself, but set it on a shelf somewhere along the way. It had been gnawing on her lately to dust it off and finish it, but she just hadn't done it yet.

When we said good night a little later, I told her "Get back on that book tomorrow!" And she promised she was going to. I believe she did.

I like to think I inspired her. But she also inspired me.

So tomorrow, I'll be working on my book. And my photos. And my blogs. And transcribing an interview, scanning some old photos...

Tomorrow has arms wide open, full of possibility, don't you know?

I hope you've had a great week that included at least a few minutes of doing something you've dreamed about, something that makes your imagination soar and your heart beat faster.

April 20, 2012

"What a cruel thing is war: to separate and destroy families and friends, and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in this world; to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors, and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world." ~ Robert E. Lee

In The Book of Jonas, author Stephen Dau reminds us that the devastation of war goes beyond a battlefield littered with debris and dead bodies: it indelibly stamps everyone involved.

Dau illustrates this mostly through the story of Jonas, whose childhood village was destroyed by American soldiers, but also weaves in the stories of Christopher, one of those soldiers, and Rose, Christopher's mother. Through these three perspectives, Dau makes us ponder what we believe about justice, guilt, innocence, right and wrong.

It's a quietly powerful book. A multilayered story with multi-dimensional, multi-faceted characters. Dau is great at introducing a character, making us feel one way about him or her, then moving the camera so we see them from a different angle, triggering a different reaction.

For me The Book of Jonas is more than a story about war and its effects. It's a lesson in life and love, illustrating how rarely anything is exactly what it seems to be, either black or white. Even our memories don't tell the whole truth, limited as they are by a single viewpoint and tainted by other similar memories.

It's a reminder that none of us lives in a vacuum. Our lives can be dramatically changed because of one decision... sometimes our own but often someone else's. We also can't just ignore the traumatic events that leave their stamps on us, hoping they'll go away. If we do, we become their prisoners.

"The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keep out the joy." ~ Jim Rohr

April 10, 2012

Your car has issues, your family has issues, your house has issues, your job has issues...

Opportunities drop onto your path that will scurry away if you don't jump on them right this instant but you don't know how you can squeeze another minute out of your day. Bills need to be paid but you don't know how you're going to squeeze another penny out of your dollar.

That's when you need to step back and realize that even if you're not sure how you're going to deal with the issues or take advantage of the opportunities or pay the bills, things could be worse.

Having these problems means you have a car, you have a family, you have a house, you have a job. You have dreams and hope and faith.

April 05, 2012

Butterflies flitted around me on my walk this morning, hopping from flower to flower too fast for me to capture in my camera. (The one above is from last week!)

I imagined they were celebrating the beautiful morning... dancing a springtime jig of joy. It was contagious - I felt joy rising inside of me in gratitude for the sunshine, the blue skies, the color popping up around me, and especially for the chance to turn 53 tomorrow.

Life isn't perfect, but it has moments of simple glory that can soften the darkness with a whisper, enough to help us see beauty in those less glorious moments. I've been blessed with tons of those moments.

But suddenly I saw indecisiveness in the butterflies' glorious dance... an inability to settle on any one flower long enough to drink much of its nectar, to truly enjoy it or benefit from it.

Was I like the butterflies, hopping from one job or hobby to another too quickly, not allowing myself time on any to truly absorb them?

Ah, birthdays always make me think too much.

I decided not to worry if I'm hopping in too many directions or not. Sharing a birthday with Good Friday is enough to reflect upon. What better gift could I receive than the one Christ gave to me?

I have already received some sweet birthday surprises, though... a few cards and phone calls, a party with friends next weekend, and (bless you Mary Kay, Conni and Karen!), I get to go see the hit Broadway musical Mary Poppins when it plays Austin next week!

My gift to myself will be to re-focus on my health... getting enough sleep, eating right, and making my workouts a priority... and also to focus on each moment at hand, rather than letting my brain wander too far into the past or the future... or onto Facebook when I'm supposed to be writing.

All three of my kids will be here for a while this weekend to help me celebrate Easter and my birthday. Icing on the cake, for sure! Unlike my zip-lining adventure last year, I didn't have a desire to cross off any big Bucket List things for my birthday, other than visiting Enchanted Rock again, and we already did that.

I imagine, besides going to church, we'll just hang around the house, walk the dogs, watch a movie, talk...

Okay, I admit I'm hoping for at least one game of ping-pong.

But whatever we do, it will be perfect, and I know I'll be reflecting on all of it, tucking it away in my heart and giving thanks.

God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.

March 28, 2012

That makes two days in a row after several weeks of merely dusting them. A friend shared with me some basic beats he learned in his drum class and I've been wanting to practice them for days, but just had too many important things I needed to do.

Playing the drums isn't important. Or at least I didn't think it was until today. Not until the rain that wasn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow showed up a day early, forcing me to postpone a family photo shoot I had scheduled with a friend this afternoon.

We've had a tough time meshing our calendars. I had already postponed the shoot once to go to a meeting I had forgotten about. Now it will be another two weeks before we can meet up.

Disappointed and discouraged, I picked up the sticks and banged away for a little while, not in the mood to do anything else.

It didn't make me any money. I couldn't cross it off of my long to-do list. But I felt better. A few rays of mental sunshine broke through the rainclouds that had somehow rolled into my head.

It made me think of BlogHer's Life Well Lived question for this week: How do you put yourself first? How does taking time for yourself help make you happier?

Almost every morning I take my puppies for a walk. That makes me happy, but as much as I love my walks, the joy in their faces is contagious and makes my heart soar.

In fact, most of my happiness is triggered by doing things for others. I truly believe that's the secret to happiness.

But there's a need for balance. Even Jesus took breaks from the crowds, heading off into the mountains or across the sea to be by himself. If he needed breaks, how much more so do we, to keep ourselves from becoming burned out or resentful?

Playing the drums makes me happy. Slipping off for a lunch... or a weekend... with my friends (or my husband) makes me happy. Having my hair cut by someone who knows how to cut my hair makes me happy.

That first cup of coffee in a quiet house... stepping away from the computer into the early afternoon sunshine... taking photographs of flowers and full moons... writing... reading... these all make me happy.

And that happiness is like a big deep breath, a surge of energy coursing through my body, revitalizing me, giving me what I need to help others.

February 23, 2012

Last night I dove into the final chapters, my mind still swirling with sorrow and joy that lingered from a quick trip to Houston for my cousin's funeral. Sorrow for friends and family wrapped tight in grief for the recent loss of their loved ones, including a dear friend whose husband just died, and joy from time spent with my parents, sister, and cousins I rarely see.

I arrived home just in time to attend Ash Wednesday services, where Father Don reminded us of our mortality, of the importance of not squandering the gift of life we've been given, but to find a way to give back.

Through all of this, Smith's book was on my mind, because it deals with life and death and grief. Mostly her own grief. When Smith was fourteen, both of her parents were diagnosed with cancer. Her mother died when Smith was eighteen and then, just seven years later, she watched her father take his last breath.

Smith takes us along on her heart-wrenching and courageously candid journey, but as tragic as it is, underneath is an unspoken glimmer of hope that kept me turning the pages. I knew she survived this dark passage of her life... I could tell that she was writing it from a patch of light that gave her strength to venture back in, in order to share her story with us.

But I couldn't imagine how she did it. I wanted to know. I needed to know.

How do you face the grief without letting it swallow you? How do you continue when you've lost your "most important person"?

But my parents and my husband's parents are all still alive... still voices on the other end of the phone... still just a hop in the car and a few hours' drive away. Except for my brother, we have all ten of our siblings. All of our children.

Mostly, we still have each other.

But life is so fragile. In little over a year, six of my friends have become widows. Several of my classmates from high school, former co-workers, and now my cousin have died in the past year as well, while others have lost their parents.

Smith was young when she lost her parents, but is there ever an age when you're prepared for that void in your life?

I feel blessed. Grateful. And lucky. But I also feel a twinge of guilt that makes me stumble over the right words. Smith says "If you haven't been through a major loss, then the truth is that you just don't know what to say to someone who has."

She talks about the friends that gathered around her in her father's last days. Just their physical presence, their touch, helped her get through it. I remember how much it meant to me when I looked up at my brother's funeral and spotted my girlfriends.

Even if I don't know what to say, I'll try harder to be physically present.

I also won't pass judgement. I won't tell anyone it's time to get on with their lives, but will try to just listen. "Our grief is as individual as our lives," Smith says.

Simone Weil said "All sins are attempts to fill voids."

Smith's reactions to her parents' illnesses and deaths certainly proves this to be true. She relates with raw honesty her futile attempts to fill the void. I'm amazed she not only survived, but managed to settle her father's estate, get her degree, and hold jobs while traveling the dark and gritty path of her teens and twenties.

I recommend this book to anyone who is actively grieving, but also to anyone who has struggled with depression, loneliness, bad relationships, trying to find the right path, or just trying to figure out who they really are. They'lll be able to identify with her story, too, whether or not they've suffered loss such as hers.

Now a grief counselor, Smith used the stages of grief as the framework for her memoir. It isn't a linear story, but jumps from one episode in her life to another, back and forth, but told in the present tense, allowing us to experience the moment through her eyes.

Some of the episodes are repeated with slight differences; I didn't understand this until near the last chapter when she explains the stages are just a frame to work with. "You may never experience all of them. You may go through them out of order or sometimes find yourself in more than one of them at the same time."

Life and death go hand in hand. Personal loss is waiting for each of us around one of the corners, just ahead. I believe reading Smith's book will help anyone prepare for the inevitable grief that comes with life... and to believe that it's possible to eventually get to the other side of grief and continue on.

At the end of the book, Smith describes walking in on her husband and young daughter having a tea party. She wants to freeze that moment, but knows she can't. She knows time will pass, along with many others, that they'll all grow old and die.

But her father's words, spoken shortly before his last breath, resonate through her words. I know she believes them and I do, too:

"Life is worth living."

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are totally my own.

February 21, 2012

Today I'm driving to Houston. My cousin died a few days ago and I want to be there for his funeral tomorrow, Ash Wednesday.

Ronnie was only 64. Not old, but not young, either. I guess "just enough time", as the Band Perry sings... but I can't imagine ever thinking I've had enough time.

I'd prefer not to be going to Ronnie's funeral tomorrow, although what better way to remind us of our mortality as we enter this season of Lent than to have someone we love and care about die?

As I prepared for my trip this morning, I got word that a dear friend's husband died suddenly yesterday. For the past two years they've lived in separate countries, longing for the day when she could join him in Spain and they'd finally be together longer than too-short visits that passed oh, so quickly.

Just over a month ago, that day finally came. And now, just like that, he's gone.

I'm grateful they were together, that there wasn't still an ocean separating them when he died, but my heart breaks for her as all of their hopes and plans and dreams for the future turn to ashes.

That's the thing about life. We can make all kinds of plans and dream all kinds of dreams, but there's no guarantee any of them will come true.

Should we stop planning? Stop dreaming?

Heck no. Even if we can't control what happens in our lives, we can control how we react to the unexpected. We can still try to make the most of each moment we're given, even if it we feel there's never enough time. We can try to embrace the lessons in our tears as much as those in our laughter.

I came across a wonderful reminder of this on Beth's blog yesterday in the video below. I felt it was too powerful a story not to share.

I haven't made my Lenten promise yet, but I have a feeling it will have something to do with my answer to the question below...

"What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

~ Mary Oliver

How would you answer that question?

Please join me in praying for peace and strength for these and others who have recently lost loved ones, including my high school classmate, Tanya, whose husband died today.

February 19, 2012

Bonfire sparks drifted up to the sky where clouds parted like curtains and stars crowded the stage, accompanied by the singing creek beside us. No moon softened the darkness - the pitch wall of night rose just beyond the reach of the firelight.

There was a time not too long ago when I would have feared the darkness, imagining all sorts of danger lurking where my eyes couldn't see. But last night I hugged my jacket around me, craned my neck up to stare at the stars and felt nothing but awe at the beauty of the night and amazement that I ever felt fear standing in its darkness.

I had spent the past day and a half immersed in the world of children's books, listening to authors, agents and editors sharing their stories and experience, offering advice and encouragement to those of us still only dreaming of publication.

Standing there watching the stars break through the clouds, hearing the sizzle and pop of the fire, the trickle of the creek, the frogs singing in the distance... it all just added to the impression that this is a magical world where dreams can come true...

...Especially the small ones like sleeping in for the first time in weeks and meeting my cousin Pat for lunch after two years of trying to match our schedules (which is just ridiculous because she only lives an hour away!)

Pat's a genealogy addict like me, except she's still actively researching. I've had to put myself on a 12-step-program, otherwise I'd get nothing else accomplished!

A few years ago we spent a Saturday tracking down family cemeteries and visiting the Bell County Museum, where we discovered a photo of 'the oldest house in Bell County' hanging on the wall.

According to writing on the photo, it was built by one of our ancestors. She sent off for a copy of it and today presented me with a framed canvas copy, along with copies of other family mementoes and letters she knew I'd treasure.

Well, she's the true treasure! But I was enjoying our time together so much, I completely forgot about getting a photo of us together as I'd planned.

Next time... and by golly, we won't wait another two years for it.

"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories."

~ Unknown

******************************************************

And now, here are a few Sweet! moments from the past week I remembered to record...

Tuesday: sharing Valentine cookies with your middle son and heart-shaped chocolates with your daughter; a "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom" call from your oldest; searching for fossilized hearts with your sweetie beside a lake, followed by dinner by candlelight and a funny, romantic movie

Wednesday: a chicken quesadilla for lunch, shared with your honey who decided to take the day off; a little bird outside the window posing for your camera; a job that lets you eat pizza, play with jewelry, sip wine, and catch up with friends while you 'work'

Thursday: a rare day spent totally at home; a puppy's face in the window reminding you to take a break from the computer

Friday: the sound of raindrops on your umbrella; familiar faces in a roomful of strangers

Saturday: the rain stopping just as you leave the house; a day spent listening and learning from authors, agents and editors; watching the clouds give way to stars; bonfires on a crisp night

Sunday: late Mass so you can sleep in a bit; a glimpse of a huge red-tailed hawk flying past; a long-overdue lunch with a dear cousin/friend

Hoping you had a week full of sweet!s and are blessed with even more in the week to come! (Share some of yours here!)

February 07, 2012

A big pot of chicken soup is simmering on the stove. From where I sit across the room I can hear the little bubbles playing on the surface and the aroma is making my stomach growl.

I made it for myself, because I'm sick. I don't cook often these days, and when I do, it's usually to whip up some favorite of one of my kids or my husband, although he's gotten quite good at cooking whatever he wants himself.

You see, there are tons of other things I'd rather do with my time besides cook. That's just me, the way I am, and I'm okay with it. Thank goodness my husband is, too.

I thought about this as I chopped up vegetables for the soup earlier, because BlogHer's latest question for their Life Well Lived Getting Happy series is: How do you practice self-acceptance and find unconditional love for yourself? (Part 2 of the question is: How does practicing love first help you attract more love and happiness in your life?)

Well, not cooking if I don't feel like it is one way I practice self-acceptance.

I spent years trying on cooking and crafting and gardening and sewing, and while I enjoyed each one to a certain extent, none of them fit me exactly right.

Today I'm cooking because I care about myself. I want to get well.

It took years to shed the 'Mommy-Martyr' mentality that made me think everyone else's needs were more important than my own. It's still a trick mirror though... one big incentive to take care of myself is so I can take care of those I love who depend on me. To be healthy if they need me or to just set a good example.

When I eat right, when I run, when I make sure I get enough sleep or play my drums or take time to read or write or take photos or laugh with friends or go dancing with my husband... it's for them as much as it is for myself.

Turning 50 was a huge turning point in my self-attitude, like standing before a mirror, evaluating where I'd been, where I still wanted to go and whether or not I was heading in the right direction to get there. Trying to figure out what fit and what should be tossed. I was able to recognize and appreciate the strengths that got me this far, as well as the quirks that make me unique.

Love your neighbor as yourself. ~ Mark 12:31

I forgave myself mistakes made along the way, accepted myself as human, flaws and all, and by doing so, discovered how easy it is to do the same for other people. The key to loving your imperfect neighbor "as yourself" is first loving your imperfect self.

How do you start? Ponder this...

Where there is no love, put love and there will be love.

~ St. John of the Cross

So how do you practice self-acceptance and find unconditional love for yourself?

And how does practicing love first help you attract more love and happiness in your life?

Leave your answer here, but also at the main post on BlogHer where you can see other answers. And be sure to enter the sweepstakes for a chance at a Kindle Fire and $50 Amazon Gift Card HERE.

January 10, 2012

To lay words on page, one after another. Words that twisted and turned but always moved forward through the life of my great-great grandfather, allowing my readers to experience the adventures, heartbreaks and joys of his life.

Most of all, I wanted to lay the last word. To say "It's done." To bless, to send away, to cross fingers and pray.

A year should have been enough, right? An hour or two a day of steady writing for a year would have gotten me to the end of the journey. An hour or two is nothing... the time it takes to walk and feed the dogs or check my email.

But the days of our lives are tricky adventures themselves, full of their own twists and turns and dark holes that make hours vanish into thin air... all too often the very hours I needed to tell his story.

And on the rare days I was able to slip away from other projects and responsibilities into his story, instead of steadily moving forward, one word after another, I'd find myself trapped in the quicksand of historic research where hours can truly disappear.

This year, again, what I want most of all is to say "It's done." I want to lay the last word and send something away with a prayer. To finish something without being lured away by another story.

So I'm stepping out of my grandfather's journey and back into another I'd written to the end, but that just needs a little sprucing up here and there. The one my grandfather's story pulled me away from.

There's no need for research, only the loosening of my imagination and the dedication - the determination - to lay the last word.

And then I'll return to my grandfather's story, stronger, more experienced, more prepared to stay that course to the end.

This week we’d like you to write a memoir piece about an unfulfilled goal or a broken resolution, beginning with the words, “I knew what I wanted".

January 07, 2012

Epiphany (-nies)

Knotted muscle in my neck...can't quite catch my breath...geez, it's only Jan. 4 and I'm already stressing about how to get everything accomplished that I want to do this year! I wish I could resolve to have an extra six hours each day - that would help! Twenty-four doesn't seem to be nearly enough.

But, of course, I can't. None of us can. We just have to stumble along and do the best we can and try not to worry about the minutes we drop along the way. Just keep facing forward, or, as this Japanese proverb reminds us...

"If you look up, there are no limits."

For me, this means that God will give me the time, strength and whatever other resources I need (money, patience, determination, health...) to do what he needs me to do. And nothing else really matters.

That's so much easier to say than to accept, though.

This morning I rose at 5am...the first time in more than a week I've been up before the sun. Even though I hate that first jolt of the alarm clock and long to jump back under the covers just a little while longer, I love getting so much done before the sun rises. I love walking the critters under a fresh morning sky, watching the world wake up. I feel invigorated...hopeful...ready to embrace the day. I wish morning could last all day!

It helped that we celebrated the Epiphany at Mass yesterday - the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus. The theme...the key word to remember...the word and image I took away from the service was LIGHT.

Light as in guidance...the star that led them to Jesus; light as in understanding...they recognized Jesus was a king, the son of God; light as in revelation...they revealed to us that Jesus came for all people, all nations, all races.

So each day I will focus on that light. His light. I'll imagine it as the fresh morning light, stretching over the world as the sun rises. I'll pray that it shines outward, leading me along the right path and helping me have greater understanding and compassion...I'll pray that it shines inward upon myself, revealing my faults...those areas that I most need to work on. I'll pray that I have his light within me and that others can see it. And then I'll take a deep breath and try not to worry about anything more.

A massage sure sounds nice right now, though...

"If you look up, there are no limits."

Glancing through January posts from the past few years, I came across the one above. It was just what I needed to hear.

It's time to review what I've learned over my two decades or so of writing. I need to figure out what helps, and do more of that, while clearing the hurdles that are keeping me from the finish line.

Let's see... I've learned I need big chunks of time for writing. My writing can't thrive and grow on the handfuls of stolen minutes I've been feeding it for years.

I've learned multitasking is my enemy. I have to close all those extra windows on my computer that tempt me... Facebook being the main culprit, but email and even research sites can be time-sucking tempters.

Other things I've learned: I compare myself to others too often; I need the challenge, support and feedback of a writer's group; I have a problem with finishing what I start... and starting too many things.

On the 'up' side, I'm much better at saying 'no'. Housework, bills, laundry, cooking... I can easily shove the thought of them into a closet and forget they exist. Wearing earplugs helps me do the same with any nearby conversations or television noise. (I work at a desktop in the open livingroom.)

My biggest challenge for 2012? Finding a balance and setting priorities between all of my different interests/callings/projects... writing my book(s), blogging, photography, and my seed of a personal history/photography business... while not neglecting my family, friends and health.

Pretty much the same challenge I faced last year. And the year before. And the year before.

I hope that by next January, I can adopt a new mantra. At least for a different book.

January 03, 2012

In 2011, my thoughts ran wild like mustangs, my energy scattered into all different directions trying to chase them down.

True, creativity needs space and the freedom to run wild for a bit, to stretch its legs and grow strong... but if those thoughts scatter too far in too many directions... if they never return to the corral, never get reined in, never learn to work as a team... well, they're not good for anything but looking or sounding pretty.

I need more than that this year.

{Prepare yourself... here come my 'F' words...}

In 2012, I'm going to put up Fences to structure my time... I'm going to corral those thoughts and Focus on one project at a time so I can experience Finishing something.

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you." ~ Ephesians 4:31-32

December 01, 2011

Standing in the clearing, just standing there breathing and listening to bird song and puppy scuffles, I feel them sprouting in my head, fed by the sunshine and fresh air and stillness.

So many thoughts popping up... brilliant, original thoughts blossoming like beautiful flowers never before seen by anyone. I gather them into a bouquet to share with you, but by the time I get home, words like petals have drifted away from me, lost forever, and I'm left holding only wilted, spent blooms.

Perhaps that's all they were to begin with. They just looked more beautiful in the sunshine.

One thought lingered this morning, though... not quite as splendid as it seemed in the clearing, but a hint of color remained...

It was actually an image that popped in my head of a child walking along, gazing in wonder at the world, feeling safe and oblivious to danger because she held her father's hand. She was free to watch the sun paint treetops golden and patches of blue sky break through orange-tipped morning clouds because he guided her steps and protected her.

Lately lots of little things have tried to sneak onto my shoulders. Nothing big and in-your-face that rev up your adrenaline, but just little ones that drain your strength... worries about friends and family and finances, mostly.

But as soon as that image popped up, I felt the weight fly away; I knew I was that child holding God's hand as I walked through the clearing. Just as I held tight to my children's hands, took care of them, guided them, protected them, he does the same to me, allowing me to wander and enjoy the flowers, the sky, the sunrise and sunset.

Others are struggling with much weightier issues than I am. At times I'm ashamed of my weakness and amazed at their strength, but this morning I gave thanks for my weakness that sends me scurrying early on for the strength and tenderness in God's hand.

November 29, 2011

This morning he didn't just use all of his legs on our walk, but even trotted a little and played with Belle, pouncing and prancing and twirling so she couldn't bite his ankles (her favorite move.)

I believe in the power of prayer and I know those you offered made a huge difference. Max's days are numbered, I realize that. There will come a morning, sooner than I'd like, when he's worse, rather than better, and the day after even worse than before.

But I'm grateful today wasn't that day. I'm sure Max and Belle are grateful, too, so thank you from all of us.

My reflective mood continues, which I guess is a good thing since we're now in Advent. Tonight I'm going to Vespers for the first time - it sounds reflective so I'm looking forward to it, except for the smell of burning incense, which I'm sure will be hanging heavy in the air. (Funny how I burned incense all the time as a teenager but now I don't care for it!)

This past week many bloggers posted about gratitude. A video posted by Gail at Louisiana Belle reminded me to watch for the wonders of each day, to remember each one is a gift to live like it was your first and your last. That way you cover all your bases. (Click here to hop over to Gail's to see it. It's almost 10 minutes long and features some beautiful time-lapsed photography, but if you don't have that much time, start it at minute 5:20.)

I can't remember if I've posted here about the photography business that has dropped into my lap out of the blue, but I finally shared some of the photos from my first shoot, as well as lessons I've learned, on my photography blog HERE. I got lucky - great models and perfect weather. (Thank you Candace, Cornell and God!)

November 22, 2011

I missed it in 2001, along with a lot of other movies that came out during that time, plus or minus 3 years. We were busy with kids and preparing the foundation for our house.

If you're like me and missed it back then, in a nutshell Drew plays a smart girl who gets pregnant at 15 back in 1965. It devastates her family, especially her father, so hoping to make peace, and against her better judgement, she sets her dreams of going to college aside and marries the father of her child. He ultimately becomes a drug addict.

Based on a memoir by Beverly D'Onofrio, it's not so much a tragedy, though, as a story of friendship, determination, and ultimately, forgiveness. The ending caught me by surprise and I cried - not just "teared up" but cried as the credits rolled.

It was a good, cleansing cry, though... tears that are triggered by hope.

That's what I took away from the movie, a message of hope that love is so strong, it can survive for years buried deeply under pride, hurt feelings, disappointment... all of those feelings you open yourself up to when you allow yourself to love or even just care about another person. I think it's that impression they make on your soul that can't be filled or matched by anyone else or anything.

But relationships can't stay the same, because we don't. We're constantly changing and so is everyone else.

When you accept that ... when you don't take other people's decisions personally... when you don't clog up the connection between you with pride, you're usually able to hang on to that relationship, at least in some form.

It probably won't be the same. It might be better... it might be less. But without it, you won't be wholly yourself. There are extreme situations, of course, cases of physical or mental abuse, but I'm just talking about ordinary friendships and families that get tugged and pulled and stretched thin by life.

In the movie, the characters finally stopped focusing on the things that separated them. They each chose to reach through all of the junk they'd piled up between them and at the moment they connected, those piles became dust, losing their importance. It took a lot of courage, knocking aside all of that pride, but the movie points out how rewarding it can be when we muster that courage to forgive. Totally worth the risk.

I believe we are each the sum of other people.

I believe every cell of our body connects us to family, past and present... Every person we encounter in life, each friend who touches our heart, leaves an impression on our souls... The books we read, movies we watch, songs we hear, become filed in the library of our minds, words and thoughts given to us by another for us to ponder and use to tweek our own thoughts and apply to our experiences.

We are all connected, yet we are also unique, because no one has the same combination... We are each on a different adventure, following our own distinct path that might overlap and twist tightly with another's but will never be exactly the same.

And that's why I've been sticking my nose into other people's business lately, even before I watched the movie.

I resisted, believe me. I think there are times when you just need to mind your own business.

But two dear friends of mine who once-upon-a-time were the best of friends to each other had a falling out a few years ago. Somewhere along the way, something happened. I don't know what... I only know that one decided to cut off all communication with the other and I was left in the middle.

My friendship with each continued just as it had. It went on that way for years, but something came over me this week and I stuck my nose into the void with an email, asking for some kind of communication with the other. I didn't ask what happened to cause the rift. I don't need to know. That truly is none of my business. But as their friend, I believe their friendship is my business and I should at least try to help them make some kind of re-connection for their own sakes and peace of mind.

It's possible I've lost a friend over this, but I couldn't stand sitting back and witnessing this any longer without trying to do something.

And then it happened again. I found out that two friends of mine who I knew had been really good friends not too long ago had drifted apart. One told me his emails and phone calls had gone unanswered, so he had just accepted it and moved on, although he had no idea what had happened or if he had caused offense in some way. It had been three years.

I couldn't help myself. I sent an email to the other one. Turns out, the second friend had been going through a tough time; his mother had dementia/alzheimer's and he had spent all of his free time caring for her. In the meantime, the first friend had changed emails and phone numbers and wasn't on Facebook, so he had given up trying to contact him.

I provided all of the contact information and stepped back, with a good feeling in my heart.

So be forewarned... I'm a busybody and not ashamed of it. You're important to me.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. ~ Matthew 5:9

Disclaimer: I'm not trying to be holier than thou. Even at the moment, I have a nephew who isn't speaking to me because of an argument we had a few years ago. I believe in forgiveness and acceptance, but not in letting other people take advantage of you or lie about you.

God says "Love your neighbor as yourself", which to me says we first have to love and respect ourselves in order to love others.

But I do believe in giving others the benefit of the doubt, accepting their humanity and flaws (and hoping they accept ours), and trying to understand what they're going through.

Most of all, I believe in forgiveness and the power of love.

So you should know that if you don't want me to be your friend, you're going to have to work really, really hard at it. I don't let go of people easily.

We do not need to seek for love, we only need to seek and remove the barriers we have built against it. ~ Rumi

November 05, 2011

Does anyone else feel the swoosh of time flying by? If I'm not careful, with just a blink it will be December Eve.

November is full of writing challenges - novel writing, nonfiction writing, blogging...

Why? Who decided this was a month to focus on writing? A month dotted with important holidays in between two other big holiday months... a month of beautiful weather that begs you to drop your pen or leave your keyboard to come outside and soak it up (at least here in Austin.)

I won't be joining any challenges. Well, okay, maybe the blogging one because blogging is therapy... plus there are prizes, and I love prizes. I'll spend a few hours a week on my book, but I won't log the hours or daily words anywhere. The encouragement from other writers would be great, but right now, that's just extra time spent away from writing.

And every minute is gold right now. Yesterday morning, like a curious puppy on a leash, my brain dashed forward through the days of this month and all of the exciting events - visiting friends, celebrating my mother's 80th birthday, Thanksgiving - then I remembered the everyday demands, like editing photos from my first-ever paid photo shoot, writing, transcribing... laundry, groceries, bill-paying... morning walks, dog duties, working out...

How am I going to fit it all in?

Right away, I pushed the retract button on the leash, reeled in that frisky puppy-thought and made up my mind to keep it on a tight leash, allowing myself to stand in just one square of this month at a time as much as possible. I want to appreciate each day, accomplish what I can and not stress about the rest. (Why am I always having to remind myself of this?)

Already this month I waved my son off on his first post-graduation job, attended Mass in honor of All Saints Day, and said extra prayers for the souls of my friends and family who have passed on in honor of All Soul's Day. I came across these quotes and started writing a post including them, but ran out of time.

But they're great, so I'll still share them with you...

God creates out of nothing. … but He does what is still more wonderful: He makes saints out of sinners.~ Søren Kierkegaard

Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.~ Oscar Wilde

I've also survived my first paid photo shoot gig (from what I've seen of the photos, I think it was a success!) and helped ease a friend into a new decade of life with a surprise celebration of his 60th birthday.

(As promised, Dan!)

And at the moment this post is published, Tom and I will be off visiting dear friends.

{Last night (Friday) we enjoyed (I'm sure!) listening to their son's band play, and today (Saturday) we're either off exploring garage sales and flea markets or, if we're too tired from last night, we're just hanging out on the back porch. Either way, we're having fun!}

It's only the fifth of November, but the rest of the month promises to be just as packed. I'm determined to savor each day, slowly and deliciously, as if it came from a box of assorted rich chocolates.

Because these days of our lives are precious, aren't they?

And now on to the rest of my sweet moments from this past week... Hope your week was filled with them, too!

Saturday: a surprise visit from a friend at the Bistro; winning a coin toss; autumn days in a vineyard; home from work early enough to watch a movie with your sweetie

Sunday: catching up with a dear friend after church; sharing a yummy cheesesteak sandwich with the one you love; five minutes with, and a hug from, your oldest, on his way from Dallas to San Antonio; cleaning house while listening to The Best of U2, 1990 to 2000 and the Beatles #1 hits

Monday: Haley, the neighbor puppy who was hit by a truck just a few weeks ago, joining you and your puppies for your morning walk; making a little headway on learning Photoshop Elements

Tuesday: seeing your son off on his first day of a new job; support and advice from photographer friends; almost forgetting, but then arriving early for All Saint's Day Mass

Wednesday: cotton candy clouds; meeting Fancy, a leggy Doberman puppy; surviving your first ever 'real' photo shoot; a call from your sister; a now-routine weekly lunch with wonderful friends; helping a friend celebrate his 60th birthday (and spending time with friends you never get to see anymore)

Thursday: seeing your "baby" girl; homemade chili on a chilly night; laughing with your son at the Modern Family episode you missed via Hulu

Friday: joining other bloggers worldwide for the Blog Blast for Peace; Belle peering in at the window beside you, in hopes you'll come out and visit; taking a break from the computer and visiting with your wiggly, joyful, full-of-kisses puppy; finding out you won a blog drawing for a cup with a friend's beautiful original artwork on it!

Hope you're having a wonderful weekend. Don't forget...

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." - Robert Brault

P.S. Please keep my father-in-law in your prayers. He had to go into the hospital this week and be given blood for a recurring problem with anemia. So far, they haven't figured out what's causing it. Thank you!

October 29, 2011

My Friday drifted away from me. I had a tight grip on it but then next thing I knew it was gone.

It was one of those impulsive days... the kind where I start one thing and in the middle veer off onto something completely different... where I get a lot of little things done but nothing much accomplished to speak of.

Despite the overall feeling of being stuck in Wonderland, there were two side trips I'm happy I made:

1. I played the drums. Only 15 minutes or so, but it's been weeks since I picked up my drumsticks. Again. I still sound like a little kid pretending to be a drummer, but it is soooo much fun.

2. I changed out my "Kids Pictures". There's this little Duncan Phyfe side table near the front door where I keep 7 or 8 snapshots of my kids when they were little in whatever season it happens to be... for instance, up until today, they were all holding brand new lunchboxes and looking spiffy in their favorite "first-day-of-school" clothes. Now they're all looking out at me so precious in their Halloween costumes, making me feel wistful and melancholy over how fast the years went by (conveniently forgetting how stressful it was trying to help everyone "be" who they wanted to be.) Sigh.

See what I mean? Just so dang cute! And so cuddly-little!

Years ago, when I first started changing seasons, photographically-speaking, on the side table, seeing these little faces reminded me that the teenagers I lived with at the time used to be sweet and lovable munchkins who liked to snuggle up with me while I read to them.

Now, some seasons, I actually slip in a few photos of them as teenagers because it reminds me of all the fun we had... because they really always have been fun kids. Well, mostly.

Sigh.

Anyway... now I'm headed off for a long shift at the Bistro, but before I go, I want to share some other Sweet! moments of my past week...

Sunday: finally making it to Barton Creek Mall; an afternoon with your daughter; shopping for hours and somehow managing not to buy anything; crawling in bed when you're really, really tired

Monday: a sunrise walk with your puppies; thinking of a sweet friend on her birthday; catching up on email - sort of; a clean bathroom and empty laundry hamper; knowing your sister made it home safely from a long road trip

Tuesday: joyful puppies; fluffs of pink-orange morning clouds; no lines at the post office; finding a package from a friend in the mailbox; finally making it to the grocery store!; a son who helps carry in groceries and put them away; jalapeno/swiss cheese hamburgers; listening to a cd of Peter Frampton's recent live concert while you work

Wednesday: more and more yellow flowers popping up along the road; lunch with two dear friends for the second week in a row; portobello mushroom tacos; finding tutorial videos on Photoshop Elements and actually learning a little bit; Modern Family's Halloween episode, even if it's a repeat

Thursday: getting $4 at Buffalo Exchange for a pair of shorts you paid 50 cents for years ago; finally getting the chance to take photos of the nuns on top of Toy Joy; a much needed haircut and re-blonding; thrift store Halloween costume shopping with your daughter; your son introducing you to another funny cable show (now on Netflix!); sticking to your guns about something; watching a teensy part of the World Series next to your sweetie

Friday: autumn temperatures that stick around all day; beautiful skies; Belle grinning; a RealAge.com age 4.5 years younger than your real age; playing the drums; glancing through old photos of your oh-so-small-and-cute Halloween-costumed kids; getting rewarded (sort of) for sticking to your guns

Saturday: sleeping in; walking with your sweetie and the puppies on a brisk autumn morning; connecting on Facebook with one of your husband's distant Australian cousins who has the same name as your son

October 27, 2011

A few weeks ago I was approached by Shutterfly about a Christmas card promotion. I would get 50 free cards plus be able to offer three of my readers 25 free cards each.

I've always wanted to send out those beautiful photo Christmas cards, but instead, I went the frugal route by printing my own photos and tucking them into cheap, cheap cards. More recently, I've gone the newsletter route with a few photos included on the page.

...And then I tuck the whole thing into a cheap, cheap card.

By doing this promotion, I would finally have beautiful, professional photo cards! Of course I said YES!

When I received the email full of details, well, that's when I sunk into the quandary. They wanted me to post it this week.

And I just couldn't do it.

You see, last year I joined my friend Suldog's "Thanksgiving Comes First" campaign, trying to urge businesses to hold off marketing Christmas until after Thanksgiving.

Oh, believe me, I tried to figure out a way around it so I could get some of those pretty cards. I even started writing a post, but I just couldn't finish it. I mean, my gosh, forget Thanksgiving... we haven't even celebrated Halloween! Or All Saint's Day. Or Veteran's Day. It's just too early to think about Christmas cards.

Because this whole campaign isn't just about Thanksgiving. It's about time and seasons and silence and space and simplifying. It's about focusing on one thing at a time and giving it all you've got, everything it deserves. It's about truly experiencing a season, thinking about what it means and being in the moment, not rushing ahead.

If you feel there's not time to prepare for Christmas if you wait until after Thanksgiving, perhaps you're making it too complicated. Trying to do too much.

Time goes by too fast as it is and life has gotten more and more complicated. I used this quote in a recent post, but it's appropriate here, too...

I’ve learned that we can do anything, but we can’t do everything… at least not at the same time. Timing is everything.

~Dan Millman

Timing is everything. Let's take time to relish and focus. Let's slow down and simplify, take things one at a time.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven... Eccleciastes 3:1

Suldog has some great ideas for how to get businesses on board with this. He pointed out that Nordstrom's has already emphasized they won't be filling the aisles with Christmas until after Thanksgiving. So I'm giving them a little shout-out here. (Yay, Nordstrom's!)

To their credit, Shutterfly's home page features Halloween items. But they were asking me to fill mine with Christmas.

One idea Suldog has is to offer merchants free advertizing on our blogs, so I'm going to follow his lead and offer any retailer a full-size ad, for one day, where my blog post usually goes, if the ad says you promise to not have Christmas merchandise on your sales floor prior to the day following Thanksgiving (and you uphold that promise!)

I'm going to borrow a portion of Suldog's post to illustrate why I think the "Thanksgiving Comes First" campaign is important. (He's talking about an episode of Mister Rogers...)

On one of his shows, Fred was explaining the concepts of noisy and quiet. In order to illustrate the difference, he took his television audience to see a musician friend of his.

Fred had the musician, a percussionist, play his many instruments. Some were very loud, while others were soft and gentle. Afterward, Mister Rogers looked into the camera and spoke. He said, "In music, the silences are just as important as the loud parts."

The silences are just as important as the loud parts.

That’s a very profound statement. It’s true, isn’t it? Without the silences, it’s all just noise. The silences – the pauses, the gaps, the unfilled spaces – are what give the notes their power and meaning. And when it comes to a holiday, the silences – the quiet times preceding (or even within) the holiday – are extremely important. They give the celebration its power and meaning. That’s why I care so deeply about this. We all need some silences. They’re just as important as the loud parts.

Amen, Suldog.

UPDATE! BREAKING NEWS!...

I just received an email from Shutterfly saying "We completely respect your stance. If you could try to get the post up by the first week of December, it would be much appreciated."

October 26, 2011

Almost every morning for years now I've walked the same mile of rocky, caliche road, up to the bend and back. Some mornings I veer off into the woods or along the creek bed.

The seasons trade places quietly; changes are subtle when you're watching every day.

This morning I felt the touch of autumn on my bare arms, brushing past in the breeze. I noticed bunches of tiny yellow flowers popping up along the sides of the road... autumn yellow with a touch of gold as opposed to Easter egg or summer sun yellow. Maybe the difference is in my imagination, fed by cooler temperatures and golden autumn light, but for me it's a hint of more changes on the way.

Along this road I've prayed. I've skipped. I've held hands with my sweetie. I've laughed at dogs and a guinea fowl. Many mornings I've cried... only God, the dogs, the birds and trees witnessing my tears.

My thoughts often wander, ramble, drift away from me on their own adventures. Along this road I can open up my heart, dig around and pull out any troubled thoughts weighing me down. I can imagine tying them onto the tail of a kite, one after another, then letting the string slip from my grasp.

I can imagine watching the breeze catch it and pull it high, high... watching it fly away, my troubled thoughts tumbling along behind, gradually disappearing into the morning clouds...

October 23, 2011

Last night Tom and I split a Subway sandwich for dinner, sitting on the restaurant's deck overlooking what used to be an arm of Lake Travis. Car tracks were visible, cutting right down the middle of the dry, grassy lake bed.

Wanting a closer look, we headed to a nearby park, but we were distracted from our lake quest by a wide field dotted with campers, trailers and trucks. A red one in the middle caught our eye, boasting "Culpepper and Merriweather Circus" in large, white old-fashioned lettering across its paneled side.

Nearby, a few men worked as a team rolling up what we guessed to be the performance tent. Two horses - one "regular" and one "mini" - were tethered near a trailer. Some people walked dogs near another trailer carrying rows of auditiorium-style seating, collapsed and waiting for the next town... the next show.

I wondered about their lives, how it must be to live on the road, going from one small town to the next. Watching them pack it all up like that was sweet and sad, all at the same time.

(Wouldn't you know, for once I didn't have my camera? I had even left my phone at home!)

Monday: easily untangling business and computer knots from the night before; morning mist on the hills; taking a baby step forward on your personal history business; listening to your mother's voice telling stories of her life; tips from photographer friends; receiving a text from your middle son that says "I got the job!"

Tuesday: walking early enough to greet the first orange rays of the sun; a rowdy wind playing with your hair; learning new photography tricks from a friend

Wednesday: riding in a truck with the windows rolled down; hearing the caw of a crow and watching it swoop out of the woods and across the road; laughing with your son over snippets of "Community" on Hulu

Thursday: meeting friends for lunch and making plans to do it every week; following the tap-tap-tap of a woodpecker until you find it behind a screen of oak leaves (and getting a few blurry photographs of it); meeting a deadline; chicken and mushroom pizza

Friday: working out to Elvis's "Number 1 Hits" CD; Belle's face peering in the window beside you, reminding you to take breaks from the computer screen to sit on the back step and cuddle with her; a husband who says "That's okay." when you tell him you're not going to make it to the grocery store today (again!); a son who offers to run to the small grocery store for a few things in the meantime; finally finishing your TABC certification; encouraging comments from strangers

Saturday: evening light on a vineyard; splitting a Subway sandwich with your sweetie on a deck as the sun begins to set; taking a walk along the bottom of a dry lake (sweet in the unique-ness... sad in the reality); watching a traveling circus roll up their tents, preparing to head to the next town

Sunday: late Mass (sleeping in!); a phone call from a dear friend you don't talk to often enough; looking forward to an afternoon with your daughter

I also have one belated Sweet! - I can finally announce that my oldest son got the job he was hoping for. Talk about an answered prayer! I couldn't mention it here until he gave notice at his current job. He and his girlfriend will finally live in the same town for the first time in their five-year relationship.

I hope you've had a week full of sweet! moments!I've found that, even on the toughest days, if I look really close and think hard about it, I can find at least one. And even just one is a flash of bright light in the gray.

October 19, 2011

This morning the sun's red-orange fingertips barely touched the horizon when I stepped out onto the road for my walk. Belle and Max, prancing in the pre-dawn darkness just beyond the French doors, had convinced me not to wait until daylight.

A rowdy wind whipped down the road, whistling through the trees and playing with my hair. A cold front was passing through - well, "cold" by Texas standards, anyway - and despite my sweat pants and hoodie, I shivered.

Autumn's no longer hinting around, I thought, it's moving on in. Then I remembered the rhythm of the seasons; the transition from one to the next is never overnight, a "honey I'm home!", but more of a flirtation, a dance... up two, back one, up two, back one... although the ultimate marriage is pretty one-sided.

That started me thinking about rhythms and transitions...

You grab the chains and walk backwards as far as you can. With a little hop, you plop your bottom onto the seat, lean back and extend your legs. Thus begins the back and forth, pull with the arms, pull with the legs rhythm until finally, finally you're soaring up, up, up above the trees, into the clouds... and back down again... then up, up, up... gliding with hardly any effort at all...

You grip the oar, lean forward and dip it into the water. You dig deep and pull, pull back toward you, past you, then lift it free, resting it on your lap as you glide smoothly forward with no effort. Then you lean forward and dip it into the water again...

For four minutes I jog, easy does it... then as soon as I enter the fifth minute, I push the little button to speed up my treadmill, kicking and stretching to keep up with the pace. I run as fast as I can for one solid minute, then back it back down to an easy pace for four more. Then I push the button...

With each there is exertion and rest, exertion and rest... a steady movement that inches you farther or further along in your goal.

It hit me I'm in such a transition right now. I have been for some time, but I just lose my momentum every now and then and have to get that push, pull thing going again.

Work, rest, work, rest.

What a great lesson. I need to remember this one, if I ever hope to soar.

Work and leisure are complementary parts of the same process. They cannot be separated without destroying the joy of work and the bliss of leisure.

October 15, 2011

Watching our balances dwindle away, I realized there's a good chance I'm going to have to give up on my book and my personal history business and my photography - or at least put them up on the shelf again - and just try to find another regular job that bores me to tears and doesn't pay much, but will bring in enough to keep us afloat.

I'll continue trying to work on my dream projects in my spare time, but I've been doing that for years. I know (for me, at least) it's doesn't work very well. I can't keep scrimping on sleep or "husband" time. Tom gets tired of seeing me glued to the computer.

But if it comes to that, so be it. I have too much to be grateful for to whine about it.

I refuse to give in too easily just yet, though, so I did something I've debated with myself about for a long time: I broke down and added a tip jar to my blog. Part of me thinks it's a little presumptuous; the other part thinks, Why not? Artists and musicians and even waitresses get tips...why not writers?

So there you have it. I so desperately want to keep working on my book and making money doing things I love, that, in addition to juggling a few part time jobs, I'm willing to put a jar out there for spare change.

If you're inclined to add to it, thank you. If you're not, that's fine with me... I hope you still keep reading! No matter what, I'll keep blogging. It's something I need to do to maintain my balance, like running and praying and taking my morning walks.

But I won't mention the tip jar again, and I won't be offended if you don't or can't pitch some pennies in it, don't worry. I just wanted to explain its appearance in case anyone noticed it.

And now for my week's collection of Sweet! moments...

Sunday: your dad wearing a sombrero while the restaurant staff sings "Happy Birthday"; running and squealing in the rain with your kids; the rain coming to an end for your drive home; watching a really good Korean "western" with your middle son; getting the call that your oldest son made it home safe

Monday: finally tackling Lesson 1 of the Photoshop Elements class you signed up for (for the second time!); a friend texting a reminder to you about the full moon; feeling autumn in the air at dusk as you photograph the full moon

Tuesday: stepping outside before the sun rises and hearing frogs belting out a happy song to the misty moon from the now-wet pond; capturing a photo of a coral sunrise; helping your son tie his tie for a job interview; revisiting the State Library for the first time in ten years; helpful people; lunch with your son at an Austin icon; water in the pond!; purple flowers; the hum of happy dragonflies; your son and husband cooking dinner while you work

Wednesday: your water-loving old dog's ecstatic face as he swims in a pond for the first time in months; getting a Post of the Week for Sisters of the Sea from Hilary at The Smitten Image (thanks again, Hilary!)

Thursday: hanging out with your son on his 23rd birthday; finding a few books you need CHEAP at Half-Price books; cyclops cookies; the look of surprise on your son's face when he opens his birthday present

Friday: sleeping late after a late movie night with your son; cool mornings that gently warm up; crisp autumn blue skies; butterflies and dragonflies following you on your walk; a call from your traveling sister; good news on your neighbor's puppy who was hit by a car yesterday

Saturday: autumn mornings; walking on a country road with your sweetie; considerate customers; friends and family of a wedding couple transforming a room via beautiful decorations for a wedding reception; talking shop with a professional wedding photographer (and discovering one of the cameras he uses is just like yours!)

October 03, 2011

Suldog, one of my favorite bloggers because he's so brutally honest and funny and compassionate, all rolled up in a tough old-fart exterior, tagged me in something called a Re-Blog Challenge.

Since I'm scrambling to get back into the 'real world' after my dreamy weekend at the coast, I decided today was a good time to take him up on the challenge.

I'm asked to give you links to seven of my past blog posts that fit these specific categories:

1 - My most beautiful post

2 - My most popular post

3 - My most controversial post

4 - My most helpful post

5 - A post whose success surprised me

6 - A post I feel didn't get the attention it deserved

and...

7 - The post of which I am most proud

I discovered the biggest challenge was just remembering what the heck I've written..

But there's even more to it than linking to old posts, and because Suldog explains it much better than I ever could, I'll steal borrow his words...

"After I've provided links and explanatory material concerning all seven (and, presumably, after you've visited each one and said, "Most kind and gracious God! How did I ever miss these gems when they first made an appearance? I could have swum a literary ocean filled with inestimable beauty, truth, and awesome wonder, yet I unknowingly wallowed in a mud puddle until now!") I then get to choose five among you to be human sacrifices in the volcano of my quest to increase readership and, when you have overwhelming pangs of guilt and decide you'll do it, even though you don't have enough time to take a good poop these days, you get to pass it on to five more unwitting dopes, like some virulent form of chlamydia, until everyone on the internet has received $35,000,000 from Bill Gates."

I could have refused, of course, but Suldog threatened those of us he challenged if we didn't do it (something about an axe!)

So, without further ado, here they are:

My most beautiful post

Now, "beautiful" can be interpreted many ways. I thought of choosing one of my wildflower posts, but instead I chose one that proves how beautiful life can be.

Another easy one because the field is pretty narrow. I don't write many "helpful" posts. But when I come across good information, I like to share it! I got a good response from this one (and was relieved to know I wasn't the only one who needed it!)

This might have been the fastest post I've written - the words came to me in the grocery store and just flowed when I sat at the computer. BlogHer syndicated it and the reactions caught me by surprise - it really touched a nerve in many moms. I considered it for my "most controversial" post but felt it fit better here.

But I could only pick one - so how do I choose? My son told me the one below was so good it should be a book, but I'm not sure anyone else even read it! (I also chose it because it's one of my favorites - it triggers memories of my sweet Charly.)

Not a fair question. Do you ask a mother which child she's most proud of? Of course not! But for tonight, I'll pick this one (even when I read it now, it helps me breathe, and I really need help catching my breath these days!)

If they are willing to take up the challenge, I look forward to enjoying some of their posts I've missed!

However, if they don't take up the challenge, for whatever reason, they needn't fear any axe threats from me. But I admit I've enjoyed thumbing back through my own posts, so thank you, Suldog, for challenging me to Re-Blog!

A side note... please keep Suldog, aka Jim Sullivan, and his family in your prayers right now. His beloved Grandma recently passed away at the age of 105.

Jim wrote a beautiful tribute to her HERE - I encourage you to read it. His description of her and her life inspires me to live my life to the fullest.

September 24, 2011

I dropped off my camera last Thursday for some much needed TLC. It was way overdue. Just imagine... four years of trips to the beach and walks down my dusty road.

Oh, poor, neglected thing.

When I finally had it back in my hands, I expected it to work like it was brand new. Instead, the autofocus wouldn't work. I could slip it into manual, but obviously something was wrong.

After a phone call to the shop and a glance at my camera manual, it turned out I just needed to hit 'reset'.

Works like a charm, now as you can see.

I wish I had a "reset" button somewhere on me. My autofocus is shot and my manual focus isn't even working too great either. All I see is a blur as I dash from one thing to another, with a nagging feeling that I'm not making progress anywhere, merely running in circles.

Beth, a friend of mine, posted a photography tip recently: "be careful what you focus on".

Her advice keeps running through my head. Maybe that's what's wrong - I'm not being careful with my focus. In trying to focus on everything within view, it all turns out a blurry mess.

September 11, 2011

Lord, take me where you want me to go;Let me meet who you want me to meet;Tell me what you want me to say; andKeep me out of your way.

- Fr. Mychal Judge, FDNY (died 9/11/01)

This morning, while thousands of names were solemnly read, one by one, at Ground Zero, two babies were baptized in our church.

This evening I'll help celebrate a dear friend's birthday with Mexican food and margaritas.

In between, I've been remembering...

Ten years ago I was one of millions watching in disbelief as our country came under attack. Do you remember that feeling as we pulled together in the days that followed? We changed the way we did things, for sure, but we kept on living our lives, refusing to let our attackers control us with fear.

Living each day, deliberately and free. Remembering but moving forward, only leaving room for light and happiness and love. That's our victory.

"...Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shatter steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve.

America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining.

Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature, and we responded with the best of America, with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could..."

Autumn now greets me these mornings, wrapping her chilly arms around me, sending me back inside for a light jacket. But I welcome her - she's my favorite season. She takes my hand and pulls me outside to revel in her crisp mornings and blue skies. She invigorates me, reminds me there is still time to finish what I hoped to accomplish this year.

The past few days have been especially glorious, with mornings cool enough to rock on the front porch for hours, sipping coffee and getting lost in the pages of a book. I'm enjoying the weather so much I feel guilty, remembering our desperate need for rain.

I felt especially guilty this morning when the smell of smoke hit my nose as I stepped outside for my walk; because of the cool temperatures, my mind first smiled, somehow totally forgetting the nearby wildfires, imagining instead of a cozy campfire or a woodburning stove.

But in a millisecond I remembered the devastation and glanced all around, feeling fear rise inside of me. Nothing near us, thank God - smoke is just drifting our way, I guess. I prayed hard for rain and sent an apology to the victims of the wildfires out into the smoky air.

We took advantage of Summer's lingering sunshine and warmth this weekend by playing in a nearby lake with family and friends. (The sunset photo above was snapped from the car on our drive there. Click HERE for more photos of our weekend.) What better way to wish Summer well on her journey and let her know she'll be missed?

But for me, Summer doesn't officially end until I retreat to the coast for my 12th Annual Port Aransas girlfriend weekend. It's a wonderful way to celebrate the end of Summer and welcome Autumn... days are warm enough for sunning and playing in the water, mornings are cool enough for a run on the beach and coffee on the balcony.

Best of all, I have plenty of time to reflect on changing seasons of all kinds.

I have a map in my mind, with huge circles drawn around several destinations. I've charted the journey, made lists of things I need to take with me, things I need to do in preparation and started crossing items off.

But as time goes by without losing sight of land, I fear I'm satisfied with the Idea of a Journey and that I'll never actually get the nerve to set sail on the wide sea.

I fear indecision will keep me drifting close to shore, where pretty distractions make me forget about my dreams or news of potential storms make me afraid of heading into unknown waters.

Or if I do manage to jump aboard my boat and head for sea, I fear I've plotted the wrong path.

So this little prayer from Sir Francis is a good reminder to keep moving forward and not get too caught up in the details.

At some point, if you want to arrive at your destination, you have to pull up the anchor, pull Faith onboard, wave Doubt goodby and just go, right?

Wish me luck!

(These thoughts were inspired by THIS POST by Baron Batch - if you're facing a storm or a journey into the unknown, I recommend reading it!)

(the rest of Sir Francis's prayer...)

Disturb us, Lord, whenWith the abundance of things we possessWe have lost our thirstFor the waters of life;Having fallen in love with life,We have ceased to dream of eternityAnd in our efforts to build a new earth,We have allowed our visionOf the new heaven to dim.

August 13, 2011

On this day 29 years ago, I walked down the aisle of St. Mary's Catholic Church in League City, Texas and officially joined my life to Tom's. I hadn't even known him a full year, but I was very sure my feet were treading in the right direction.

Despite that confidence and our whole romantic fairy-tale falling-in-love story, the path hasn't always been an easy one, because, you know, we're married. It's like a three-legged sack race... to get to the finish line you have to learn to work as a team. You might travel faster by yourself, and maybe trip less, but it sure wouldn't be as much fun.

Last weekend we attended a wedding officiated by a permanent deacon of the Catholic Church, a widower who was able to give a unique spin to the ceremony and the concept of marriage.

He spoke mostly to the new couple, but his words resonated even with the rest of us who already know that marriage can be hard, how there are going to be times you might not even like that person you married much less love them, grrr, because he helped us remember we're just a heartbeat away from being left alone with just our memories and regrets. Never take each other's presence for granted.

He warned the new couple that Life would try to come between them. I personally think the most important word in marriage, besides Love, is Cling. You have got to cling to each other with all you've got because there's so much pulling you apart or trying to squeeze in between you. Stress, lack of money, lack of sleep, kids, exhaustion, pride...

Oh, pride is a big one. Watch out for it! The deacon warned against it, too, about the dangers of keeping score on who does the most around the house, etc. (Those of you who've been married awhile know what I'm talking about!)

We need to overlook each other's faults and focus on the positives. Focus on love, because after all, the love you have for each other is just a reflection of God's love for each of you.

"My wife was a terrible housekeeper," he told us, then looking up, he said, "You know it's true! You were!" But he said if started to complain, she would look at him and say, "Do you love me?" and it would get him everytime. (Yes, he loved you. It was plain to all of us!)

He told us to kiss each other and say "I love you" every day, and he had us do it right then and there!

By golly, I think the best thing a couple can do for their marriage is to attend a wedding every now and then, especially right before their anniversary.

Happy anniversary, sweet Tom! I love you!

Gosh, we were cute, weren't we?

And now for the rest of my sweet! moments of the week...

Sunday: attending Mass with 2/3 of your kids; an unrushed trip to the grocery store; Tom's hot wings for dinner; catching up on South Park episodes with your son

Tuesday: watching your old dog run down a dirt road; keeping your temper despite being disconnected 6 times and being on hold for two hours with the phone company; a new lens waiting in your mailbox; a violet dusk; a call from your brother with joyful news

Wednesday: glimpse of a hummingbird out the window; a new book to review waiting in your mailbox; potentially good news from your son

Thursday: your sister's birthday!; news that your cataract is growing but not enough to affect your vision or require surgery... yet; lunch at the mall and philosophical discussions with 2/3 of your kids; Panda Express orange chicken; a surprise gift from a friend

Friday: the excitement of closing one chapter in your life and opening a new one; a roadrunner zipping in front of you then waiting while you snap its picture; writing and writing and writing on your book; a full moon over your left shoulder, casting light on the road before you.

Saturday: looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes, feeling the same rush of love you felt 29 years ago when you said "I do".

August 01, 2011

I've seen Shawshank Redemption a zillion times. And last night I had two zillion things to do. So when TG started watching it, I tried to ignore it and focus on what I needed to do.

Along about the second half, I quit trying. Instead, I poured a glass of wine, plopped into the recliner beside her and forgot about my to-do's. This is why:

1. She'll be heading back to school soon and there won't be many more opportunities just to hang out at home like that, watching a movie together. Especially with the boys gone!

2. I love the movie.

3. That's all it took. I didn't need a #3.

I wasn't trying to analyze why I love Shawshank Redemption last night while I watched. But I kept thinking about it today and had to gather the thoughts, of course. Here they are (spoiler alert, in case there's actually someone who hasn't seen this movie!):

Hope... Andy holds on to hope despite life's best efforts to smash it out of him. Talk about bad luck! His hope is contagious; he and Red get to begin their lives over at middle-age because they dared to hope and believe that one day it would be possible. According to the movie - and I believe it whole-heartedly - it's never too late to live out a dream.

Integrity... I love how the movie illustrates what integrity is - the twist on how the criminals can have more integrity than the warden or the guards. And I love how Andy holds on tight to his integrity and inspires others to rise higher than they thought possible, to be better than they thought possible. To find the good in themselves.

Justice... Good overcomes evil, justice prevails and hope is justified.

Nothing says it better than Red at the end...

"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain.

I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand.

A cardinal whooshes from one tree to another, just a flash of red in the corner of my eye.

It will be unbearably hot here later when the afternoon sun turns its face this way, but right now, a soft breeze tumbles along the covered deck where I sit, ruffling my hair. In this morning moment, it's a perfect summer "aaahh".

Belle still munches from her bowl; once again, she balked about even starting on her food until Max was almost finished.

Part of me is impatient. I'm already running behind! I slept in a little because I stayed up late writing, but was still up early enough to walk before the sun took control of the road.

The light was perfect for snapping photos of the tiny buds defying the drought. I knelt in weeds, snapping away at a fresh Mexican hat, until Belle nudged me, waking me from my trance and reminding me we needed to move along.

I suppose I'll give her a break now and swallow the scolding on my lips.

Max finally stands for his treats then ambles off around the corner, probably headed back to the cool doghouse. A tiny wren lands on the edge of the deck, just a few feet away from Belle's bowl. He cocks his head, surprised to see us, and high tails it down to the backhoe, landing on the steering wheel, where he proceeds to sing and sing and sing.

(Probably 'fuss, fuss, fuss' would be more accurate, but I prefer to think he's singing to me. And it does sound lovely.)

July 24, 2011

You are the face I recognize, the face I know, the face I greet each morning,

Yes, the face I love, despite the lines and scars and spots.

You and I have traveled together, collected mementoes of Life.

Your eye-crinkles and mouth-creases... reminders of laughter and reasons to smile.

Deep lines between your brows... etched during late nights worrying about the kids.

Tiny scars on your forehead... souvenirs of chicken pox at 10 and 30, and shingles at 50.

Dark spots... kisses of Galveston sunshine.

Remember?

I do.

My life.

My face.

This morning, the face staring back at me in the mirror sported a few pimples amidst her wrinkles, scars and spots. That's not really fair, is it?

My grandmother swore by Oil of Olay. She had beautiful skin. I don't remember her ever having any pimples, but the one time I tried the lotion, my face broke out something awful. Now I'm afraid of anything labeled "Oil of Olay"!

My mother has beautiful skin, too. She used the Clinique ritual for awhile - I tried it, but I think it was just too much work for me. It probably broke me out, too.

I remember lots of pimples back then, when I was a teenager. I tried everything. No luck.

Until finally, I asked our family doctor what to do. "Stop putting all that crap on your face," he told me. "Just use Ivory soap and be done with it."

He was right. Ivory soap worked! Until a few years ago when I noticed my cheeks felt like sandpaper.

Dang menopause.

Obviously, I needed a moisturizer, but I was scared, remembering the Oil of Olay situation as well as one experiment with an eye cream, guaranteed to "minimize the appearance of fine lines" - it actually poofed up the skin around my eyes. I looked like I'd been stung by a bee! That's how it got rid of the lines!

I'd rather have the lines.

The key words to watch for (I realized afterwards) were "the appearance of"... Very important!

Even with this in mind, I eventually succumbed to advertisements for L'Oreal's Revitalift products. I'm happy to report that my face didn't break out and my eyes didn't poof up like marshmallows. In fact, nothing much happened except my cheeks no longer felt like sandpaper.

In other words, I still have my wrinkles, but that's okay. I'll do what I can to keep from accumulating more, but I earned the ones I have. They're me.

I don't think I'll ever be bothered enough by my wrinkles to try Botox or surgery (I don't like pain)... but I have friends who've delved into those treatments, so I'm not passing judgement.

So imagine my surprise one day last week when I looked in the mirror and noticed the lines between my brows were missing. Where did my furrows go?

The only thing I could attribute it to was three nights in a row of solid 7+ hours of sleep. Who could have guessed? Sleep - truly the best anti-aging tool we have, and it's free! But how many of us take advantage of it? I know I don't!

For instance, here I am typing at the computer way past my bedtime.

Furrows and dark circles are guaranteed for tomorrow! (I just hope the pimples are gone.)

But what about you? If you have a face you've grown old with, do you love it? Hate it? What do you do to take care of it?

July 21, 2011

Seeing its zig-zaggy tracks made me laugh - it's exactly how I feel these days, bouncing from writing my book to writing blog posts to photography to 'paycheck' work to blog-reading to my jewelry business to my personal history business to house stuff to to-do lists to emails to Facebook... and getting behind on all of them.

So last night I set the alarm to wake up at 4am this morning.

That would give me over an hour of writing time in a silent house. I hoped at 4am the wild-flying thoughts and words bouncing around in my brain would be tame enough to capture.

Then I calculated how much sleep that would give me if I rose at 4, projected myself through the rest of the day on so few hours of rest, weighed whether getting all of those things done I needed to do but couldn't focus on at night was worth feeling miserable all day and having huge bags under my eyes.

I reset the alarm for 5:30am.

One day soon I'll have time for writing and sleeping - but much less money. Why can't time and money work together? It seems I never have enough of either one.

Speaking of droughts, it's still dry around here; my dust-covered car is once again attracting attention from random passers-by in parking lots...

Hope today you get plenty of rain or time or money or whatever it is you need!

(And if you don't, I hope you can laugh about it! Remember, nothing ever stays the same. Just hang on!)

July 08, 2011

Oh, I had big plans for yesterday, all spelled out in a realistic and do-able list of things to accomplish on my day off.

Besides the usual - my morning walk with the dogs, their breakfast on the back porch and my work-out which I always dread and want to get out of the way as soon as possible - I was eager to activate my new iPhone. I'm finally entering the "iWorld", although still a bit behind everyone else with a 3G because they're cheap and 4Gs aren't.

Once I had my new phone up and running, I would tackle the rest of my list: pick up a few groceries, try out a new recipe, clear the mound of paperwork from my desk, pay some bills, work on my book and blogs and photos ... until it was time to shuttle TG to her summer class at the community college.

However, I forgot about Murphy's Law. To activate the phone, I had to install iTunes on my computer and that turned into an all day ordeal, involving downloads and uninstalls and phone calls to Apple.

Sooo... I'm still using my old phone today. Sigh. The pretty, new, shiny iPhone is back in its box waiting for my next day off to be brought to life.

But this morning I'm still smiling, inside and out, and here's why...

Belle greeted me, all wiggles and grins and squeals of delight, as soon as I stepped out the door.

How could you see this face and not smile?

Then Max pranced around the corner and even though Belle bit his ankles all the way up the walkway, he kept grinning - he puts up with the pain and irritation (to a certain extent, anyway) out of love and appreciation for her playfulness. Seeing him smile makes me smile.

But there's more...

I know we need rain and I would welcome stormy skies, but in all honesty, a blue sky stretching cloudless from one rose-kissed horizon to the other makes my heart soar.

My bougainvillea continues to bloom, brightening the browns and grays with splashes of deep fuschia.

Bird tracks zig-zag and criss-cross the dirt in several spots along our road. Perhaps a roadrunner or the goofy doves that cluster in that area, but they remind me of my Frankie-bird and that makes me smile.

I received a text yesterday from someone very dear to me, someone whose heart suffered deep loss just a few years ago, someone who I feared would never rediscover the joy in life, letting me know he'd found love again. He's happy. That didn't just make me smile - it made me cry with joy!

Even if I didn't have all of these things to smile about, I'd find a way to smile anyway because of this Japanese proverb I came across yesterday...

‎"We do not smile because something good has happened;

rather something good happens because we smile."

So find a way to smile today, somehow, someway!

And now here's my Favorite Photo of the Week...

This just says "Texas" to me, because where but Texas will you find a cactus growing beside a vineyard?

Maybe there are other places, but we Texans always like to think we're unique. Being a Texan makes me smile - as well as getting to work where I can see cactus growing beside a vineyard.

June 17, 2011

I walked at dusk, a tangerine glow still lining the horizon, not quite snuffed by the night sky. The wind blew hard, but it was comforting, like a friend's reassuring hug, and its roaring in my ear was a lullaby, soothing.

While the puppies hunted for lizards and rough-housed in the sand, I turned inward, flipping through my thoughts, trying to sort and organize and figure out why I feel so scattered, why I feel someone has stolen minutes from my day.

I just can't get as much done as I used to and I don't know why.

My brain feels as dry as the land around me, and that doesn't help. My words and thoughts are wilted, sluggish, thirsty for more writing time.

And yet, hasn't my time for writing always been like that, just bits and pieces shared by so many different projects that they're worn thin like tattered hand-me-downs, tossed aside into the nooks and crannies of my day? What's different now?

Maybe it's not the amount of time, but the rhythm of my day. Maybe it's the other things competing with space in my brain...things like jobs and money, dreams and reality, love and heartache, concerns about family and friends.

Maybe it's just the weather.

But the wind blew my cloud of melancholy away. Despite the heat, the drought and the horsefly circling me, preparing to strike, it was a beautiful evening and my blessings are too numerous to count.

Here's one... My sister Brenda got the okay from her doctor to put weight on her hip. She's back home again, with her husband and cat. I know she appreciates how Mama and Daddy embraced her and cared for her while she recuperated from hip surgery, but three months is a long time to be away from home and I'm happy for all of them.

Yeah, maybe I'm dropping things lately like so much loose change slipping through my fingers, but I've also taken care of a few to-do's that have waited patiently for my attention, such as finally posting (and selling!) stuff via Craig's List, starting back on writing my book semi-daily, cleaning up my hard drive to free up some space... um, maybe that's it. But that's something.

By the way, did you see the full moon this week? I always count it as a blessing, one that helps me put the trivial things of my life into perspective. I remembered to take a few shots of its progression - they don't do it justice, but they're still my Friday Favorite Photos picks, reminding me to stop, focus, breathe, be still.

Oh, and here's a favorite quote from the week. It has nothing to do with anything else I wrote - I just like it...

June 04, 2011

Do you ever have those mornings when you're so mentally drained or physically tired you just want to pull the covers up over your head and skip that day altogether?

I do. Not often anymore, but I still do every once in a while.

On those mornings I remind myself that each and every day, good or bad, is a gift from God. We give educational and "tough-love" gifts to our kids, so I guess we shouldn't be surprised when some of the ones he gives us aren't all sunlight and butterflies.

I think back to my own words in a previous post I wrote (click HERE) and pray that God will direct my footsteps. I pray he'll keep me out of my own way... keep me from tripping myself up.

If I'm here, there must be a reason and I need to stop overthinking everything. I need to trust, have faith and give thanks.

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.

Sunday: group hug with dear friends, in prayer over too many tragic community stories

Monday: ping-pong on the porch; homemade vanilla ice cream; floating in a backyard pool and yakking with friends

Tuesday: word that your son has an upcoming interview for the job he really wants

Wednesday: watching your twenty-something son try on new running shoes, remembering the days in Pay-Less when they were all small, testing out new shoes by running down the aisles and jumping up and down

Thursday: blue skies, dry roads and an air-conditioned car when there are dozens of errands to run

Friday: a few hours of unexpected (paid) work; figuring out something on your own; recovering what you thought was lost forever (see below...)

In yesterday's post, I shot a virtual arrow of distress out into Internet-world, asking for help. Only two people responded at all. Even though they didn't have concrete answers, I appreciated their support and suggestions (thank you, Deb and Liz!)

It made me wonder... Is anyone else out there? Do they just not care? Or is everyone else just as ignorant as I am about these things?

The latter made me feel better, so I went with that. (see my Update below!)

The good news is, I figured it out by myself. At least partly ... maybe temporarily ... but at least enough to recover the lost photos and save them onto my computer. It took a few hours and I'm not finished yet. Today I need to figure out a better system.

Here's what I did...

I unplugged the external hard drive, waited awhile, plugged it back in, and then, barely breathing, checked the folder. My heart soared to see those precious photos back again. From now on, I'm going to keep my external hard drive unplugged unless I need it, although I couldn't find information about that written anywhere.

Live and learn... I'm just grateful I had a chance at a re-do on this one.

Update: Since I posted this, I discovered my sweet sister Brenda sent out emails to several professional photographer friends, asking if they could help. And another friend, Shirley, let me know she said a prayer but didn't comment because she didn't have any advice.

It just shows that things aren't always how they appear to be. My apologies and gratitude to both of you and anyone else who is trying to find an answer for me.

And now, thanks to my oldest son, part of the puzzle is solved: The mystery photo of the two girls is one of his, from a semester he spent in Costa Rica. Now how it jumped from that folder (also on my external hard drive) to this latest one is still a mystery...

Anyway, here's my belated Friday Favorite Photo, recently recovered... a reminder of a wonderful day on the lake with friends (possibly my one and only day on the lake this summer) as well as a reminder that even on choppy, turbulent days, some bit of beauty, light or peace can be found.

May 23, 2011

Before I was fully awake this morning, I started the coffee brewing and switched on the television.

Up popped the devastation in Joplin, Missouri - that hospital with blown windows surrounded by mangled vehicles, toothpick trees and piles of rubbish ... the videos, the woman's voice praying "Help us, Jesus..."

After saying a prayer for all of those affected, I vowed never to complain about the weather here again.

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May is almost over and I'm feeling paranoid.

The past two Mays have given me belated birthday presents that I wouldn't re-gift to my worst enemy.

For my 50th birthday, May gave me a case of shingles which came with an MRI because of the headaches that heralded its arrival and steroid drops for my eyes so I wouldn't go blind.

Last year I guess May felt it had to top the previous one. First, it gave me the worst urinary tract infection of my life. (It was actually only my second ever, but the first one, thirty years ago, was so bad I took every precaution to avoid another.)

I thought that was it (thank you so much!), but then just a week or so later my heart went crazy, pounding and racing so hard and fast that it woke me up. I thought it was going to fly out of my chest! Follow up tests concluded it was SVT, or Supraventricular Tachycardia, basically an electrical short circuit in my heart that causes it to pound and race.

I haven't had another episode, or any other health scares, but then, May isn't over yet, is it? I'm just hoping this "Welcome to your 50's" initiation phase is over.

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My book review for A Jane Austen Education went live on BlogHer this evening (along with several others, if you want more than one opinion!)

I've been thinking about the book again today, mostly thinking it's a shame Jane Austen isn't required reading for everyone. Some people learn the lessons about life on their own that William Deresiewicz, the author, learned from the books, but I know quite a few people who have never learned them, such as the one he learned from Pride and Prejudice: we aren't born perfect and there are some lessons we have to learn on our own in order to grow. We can't learn them from other people. We have to experience our own failure.

I know this was certainly true for me when I was young (and maybe it's still true!). I wish it hadn't been - I wish I'd had the sense to take the advice of those older and more experienced than I was. I hope I have a teeny bit of that sense myself now.

Which reminds me... I saw a blurb on the news today that some state is considering holding parents responsible when their child gets a bad grade. Huh? Maybe I heard it wrong, but if it's true, don't they realize they're just giving parents more reason to do their kids' work for them or encourage them to cheat or that we'd be keeping kids from learning life lessons they need later on? Don't they realize no one is born perfect and everyone has a different path to follow? A different time line?

Where are these people coming from? Why do some people think their way is the only way?

As far as Mondays go, this hasn't been a great one. Okay, it truly sucked in places (and I don't use that 's' word lightly.)

But I'm still keeping my eyes open for those Sweet! moments and keeping my feet moving forward, even though I don't know what's ahead of me.

These quotes help, so I'm going to add them here in case one of you needs a little 'faith reminder'. (I need them a lot - that's why I collect these quotes!)

"Suppose you plant a garden, and after a few days, you don't see results. Do you dig it up again? No, because you know that a lot of things are going on that you can't see. It's the same with God."

~ Charles Stanley, American Baptist preacher

"Patience with others is love, patience with self is hope, patience with God is faith."

~ADEL BESTAVROS Egyptian deacon and lawyer

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."

~Proverbs 3:5-6

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

~Jeremiah 29:11

"God often closes a door before opening a new one. Between those doors, don't worry. Wait, worship and watch! It's a test of faith. Colossians 4:3"

- Rick Warren

"Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods."

~C.S. Lewis

"Hope is wishing for something to come true. Faith is belief that it will come true. Believe that for every problem God gives you, He will also provide you with a solution."

Anyone know who said that? I love it!

But this is my favorite, and the one that truly keeps me going...

Everything works out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, it's not the end.

~Author Unknown

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And for me, this is proof of that nugget of truth... the path might be tough, but if you keep going, you just might get fireworks in your honor! (The last of my graduation photos, I promise. Here, anyway. I'll post the rest on "Confessions".)